Opening my robe, I stand in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection.
“That asshole,” I growl at the sight of the bite marks on my stomach, but they’re not just bite marks. They make out the letter A.
I was so lost in the pleasure I didn’t even notice what he was doing. The asshole was marking me. Literally putting his initial on my stomach. It’s going to take at least a week or two for these bruises to go away.
Shoving the robe off, I then open the closet and pull out a pale-pink dress. I retrieve the matching lingerie set out of adrawer and place all the items on the bed. Once I’m all cleaned up, I look at my reflection in the mirror again.
The dress falls to my knees. A small slit runs up my left leg. It’s tight-fitted with a square neckline that makes my boobs look amazing. The sleeves end just above my elbows.
I head into the bathroom and apply a light amount of makeup and a whole ton of setting spray to my face. It’s so hot outside I’d likely sweat every bit of makeup off otherwise.
I run a brush through my hair but decide to leave it down today. I’m not planning on meeting anyone. It’s not as if they’re going to meet with me anyway. I’ll wait until the gala. That’s when I’m going to make my move.
Angus is still sitting at the table when I walk back out. I’m hoping I was gone long enough for him to forget what we were talking about.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asks.
“I need to go shopping. I need to find a dress for the gala. I’m not going to try to make a move on any of these assholes until Saturday night. But I need a dress that will turn heads. I need to be noticed.”
“You turn heads in a potato sack, Mol,” Angus says.
“Why thank you, but you’re biased. I need you to meet with the team again and let them know the new plan of action.”
“Already scheduled a meeting for this afternoon. They’re all shitting themselves.”
“As they should be. It shouldn’t be this fucking hard to secure a building,” I groan. “We’ve done this countless times. We’ve had pushback before and still come out on top. This time is not going to be any different.”
“We’ve never had pushback from the mafia. Holy shit, Molly Olive!” Angus jumps up, his eyes wide again.
“What?”
“You slept with a mobster.”
“Alfie is not a mobster.” I laugh. “He’s just really good at sex.”
I reclaim my chair, pick up the glass of juice, and down it. “So, let’s eat, and then shop, and then we’ll meet with the team.”
“Okay.” Angus is tapping away at his phone as I fill my mouth with food.
“What are you doing?”
“Booking you a hair and makeup stylist for Saturday,” he says.
“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” I smirk.
“I thought it was my boyish good looks.” Angus laughs.
“That too.” I shift on the seat, trying to get comfortable. It’s not freaking easy.
“You okay?” Angus stares at me.
“Fine,” I grunt.
“Why do you look like you’ve got ants in your pants?”
“My vagina was very well used last night. It’s… tender.” I smile.
“Ew.” Angus screws up his face at me.
